


you came around and knocked me off the ground from the start

by folignos



Category: Hockey RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folignos/pseuds/folignos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick hugs Bob after a win once, giant bear hug that almost lifts him off his feet. He can hear Bob laughing in his ear as he hugs him back. It’s a one time thing, it’s Nick’s knee jerk reaction to a win. None of the other guys hug Bob like that. It’s not a thing.</p>
<p>It’s kind of a thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you came around and knocked me off the ground from the start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brandonsaad (createadisaster)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/createadisaster/gifts).



> i was going to post this yesterday but i was still bitter about the hawks/cbj game because that's the kind of person i am
> 
> part seven of jenna's holiday present
> 
> i'm pretty sure the title's from christina perri's arms
> 
> come find me on [tumblr](http://toewses.tumblr.com) for more hockey and goalie love

Nick hugs Bob after a win once, giant bear hug that almost lifts him off his feet. He can hear Bob laughing in his ear as he hugs him back. It’s a one time thing, it’s Nick’s knee jerk reaction to a win. None of the other guys hug Bob like that. It’s not a thing.

It’s kind of a thing.

Nick starts hugging him after every win. Bob starts expecting it, waits for Nick to approach and then opens his arms wide, wrapping Nick up in a bulky hug. It’s kind of like being hugged by a mattress. Bob’s grinning at him through his mask. He says something in Russian, once. Nick doesn’t ask him what it means.

-

They get slaughtered by the Hawks. They always get slaughtered by the Hawks.

Bob lets in four goals and gets pulled, sits on the bench and won’t look at anyone.

He sits in the locker room silently, too, won’t even talk to McElhinney.

Nick jumps him on the way out of the locker room, pushes his way in and wraps his arms around Bob, digging his nose into his collarbone. Bob drops his bag and hugs back after a few seconds, but cautious, like he doesn’t really know what’s happening.

‘Nick?’ He sounds unsure, too.

Nick pulls away, and grins. ‘Hugs aren’t just for winning.’

So it becomes a thing when they lose, too.

-

They make the playoffs.

They make the playoffs.

Nick lifts Bob clear off the ground and yells, spinning him around a full three hundred and sixty degrees, grabs his helmet and presses a kiss to it as soon as he puts him down.

‘We made it, buddy,’ he tells him. ‘We fuckin’ made it!’

-

So now kisses are a thing.

One time, Nick forgets. It’s a few games before the end of the season, it’s an easy win, he gives Bob his usual hug, and takes off for the locker room. Bob comes in shortly after, dumps his glove and blocker and helmet and comes and stands in front of Nick, looking down at him expectantly.

Nick looks up at him, confused.

‘You forget something?’ Bob asks, grinning like a maniac.

Oh.

Nick is only wearing one skate, but he stands up, balanced on the one foot, and takes hold of Bob’s head gently, thumbs to his temples, kisses the top of his head. He gets exactly as many cat calls and wolf whistles as he would have expected. Bob beams at him, and heads back to his stall silently.

-

Nick’s trying to enjoy a nap in the players’ lounge, and he’s just falling asleep when there’s a shift in weight on the couch cushions, and someone is draped over the top of him. He half-opens one eye, not willing to admit that he’s awake yet, and turns his head to see Bob.

‘What?’ Nick mutters, and then yawns into his hand.

‘Not playing tonight, so thought I would give you lucky hug now,’ Bob says, tangling their legs together.

‘The hugs are lucky?’ Nick asks. Bob nods, solemn.

‘Luckiest of hugs.’

Nick gives in, and wraps an arm around Bob’s waist. He shuffles closer, grinning, and mashes his face into Nick's throat.

He catches Arty’s eye from across the room, and just shakes his head, rolling his eyes. Arty laughs, and shuts the door on the way out of the room. Nick hears, ‘No one go in there, Folgers and Bob are snuggling!’ and makes plans to murder Arty on the ice tonight.

He does fall asleep though, wakes up with his nose in Bob’s ear. Bob blinks at him, sleepy and smily. ‘Game time?’ he asks.

Nick wrestles his phone out of his pocket and peers at it, squinting. ‘Just about.’ He nudges Bob onto the floor, laughing when he squawks in indignation.

They win the game, and Bob smacks him on the ass on his way past to bump heads with McElhinney, grinning at him from underneath his ball cap. ‘Told you hugs were lucky,’ he says, and skates off towards the net.

-

They’re in Detroit in the middle of a three game road trip when Bob comes knocking on his hotel room door just before Nick’s about to take his nap.

‘More lucky napping?’ Nick asks, stepping aside to let him in. Bob toes his shoes off and leaves them lined up neatly next to Nick’s.

‘Won last time,’ he says, and sprawls across Nick’s bed, propping his hands behind his head.

Nick shrugs one shoulder up and down, and joins him on the bed.

It’s a great nap, Bob’s warm and comfortable, and Nick’s content when he wakes up an hour or so later. Bob’s still asleep, mouth slightly open, and he has his legs hooked around one of Nick’s.

Nick doesn’t want to wake him up, really, shifts away a little and then stops when Bob makes an unhappy noise and follows him. ‘Okay, buddy,’ Nick says quietly, and shuffles back in. Bob tightens his grip and bumps his nose into Nick’s jaw. He can feel Bob’s breath on his neck.

He feels Bob wake up slowly, by inches. His grip on Nick tightens, and then loosens, and he pulls away. It always takes Bob a few minutes to wake up properly, he’s seen him waking up at the end of a flight more than once, and he half smiles up at Nick, blinking the sleep away. ‘Hey,’ he says, quiet. His face is very close to Nick’s. His lips are still slightly parted, and very pink.

Nick kisses him without really meaning to, just a tiny, soft thing that’s over before it’s even really begun. He moves back and stays still. The tip of Bob’s tongue flicks out over his lower lip.

‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Lucky kissing now?’ He’s half smiling at Nick, who’s cheeks are warm.

‘Maybe,’ he says. ‘Would that be okay?’

‘If it for luck,’ Bob says, but he’s smiling properly now, leans forward and kisses him a lot more deliberately than Nick had, tongue easing into Nick’s mouth carefully.

(They do win the game that night, and Nick gives Bob his biggest hug yet, before pressing his visor to the cage on the front of Bob’s helmet and staying like that, just for a moment.)

 


End file.
